Effortless
by Scythers
Summary: Daisuke's "response" to Weightless. Read this second. Fluffy Kensuke? You bet.


**Author Notes: ** Due to the fact I had some "difficulties" pulling off this story, it will be split up into two chapters. This is obviously the first. I'm not sure with the second will be released, as it will just be a continuation with a much better end. Anyway, this is in Daisuke's point of view. Now, you'll notice that _this does not seem as fancy_ as Ken's "Weightless," the predecessor to this, because I do not see Daisuke has holding such a fancied knowledge of vocabulary and such. I tried to make it actually realistic to the character - so I _did not _lose "my touch" in any manner. Read and review, of course. And thank you for all your wonderful reviews for the last story! Foreign phrases at the bottom. I see abstract Takori, do you?  
  
**Disclaimer: ** On bio - go read it if you are picky.  
  
- - - - - - - - - - - -  
  
Ichijouji.  
  
I have a few things to say to you, and you had damn well listen.  
  
.. Onegai? Tatoi - I can't threaten you; you're my best friend after all, Ken-kun. I only struck you down once, you know, with my lightning-quick fist. I swear, I didn't actually _want_ to injure you, you were just being too difficult to my logic! You always mentioned how I leapt before I looked, ne? There's a nice example.  
  
But you've forgiven me, so why do I bother with any meager words?  
  
And that's pretty ironic, in that I can't hold a threat to you anymore, considering your alternative ego is none other than that _Him_, in severe italics. The damned, pompous pansy-boy_ Kaiser_. If He had a grave, I'd be sure to spit on it.  
  
This .. this is too confusing, Ken.  
  
_Kuso. _ I know I'm not as flourish with words as you appear to be - as it's all your fault the flies are finding my mouth a nice home, as it remains hanging open. I remember as you forked over that little, thoughtful collaboration of your inner thoughts, as we stood there beneath the cooling shade of _our_ blossoming sakura tree.  
  
Your pale lips, that remind me quaintly of a wilting rose's petals, quirking ever-so-gently at one corner. And your violet hued eyes, gazing at me so intently! I could do nothing but stammer out a question to the gift of sorts, as I took it in my hands. Did my finger brush against a spindly one of yours, or was I wishing too hard on that shooting star?  
  
"Sou ne, Daisuke," you shot back at me cheerfully, those effeminate swaths of navy that coated your head briefly becoming displaced by a mischievous wind. Unlike other irritable breezes that foolishly wished they were amassed gales, an opposing brush of slightly chilled air would return those locks to their respectable places. Desu --  
  
.. do they feel like silk as much as they look it?  
  
Your voice was oddly sunny that day, I vaguely recall, which suited the glowing orb that hung above us in the azure painted skies. I wasn't even sure why I called you to such a location, anyway, as I stood there staring downward at my sneakers purposefully.  
  
I had this acidic ball in the pit of my stomach, just forever gnawing reproachfully at the inside of me. It was growing worse every moment your once royal genius was out of my sight, Ichijouji, and I was desperate for it to stop. Reluctantly, though, your presence in my _mind _was made well aware by a snickering memory.  
  
It is really your fault.  
  
I used to wonder what that reserved edge of your eyes meant, although I'm not usually that type of watchful person. It was omnipresent, which wasn't too surprisingly, considering what you were forever trying to hide from me. You're too subtle in your actions - you need to lighten up! And I'm probably the best person to come to for advice on relaxation. My teachers will agree to that much.  
  
You'd frown if I told you that, and try to assure me I'm as bright as one of those pulsars out there, in the universe somewhere. See, your knowledge is beginning to rub off on me, as I can't help but hover over your shoulder when you're doing your homework. At least, when I'm at your house to see it.  
  
Even with your private agenda, you always have time for me.  
  
_Always._  
  
I used to wonder about that, too. It would only take a few moments for you to solve the problems that could pass as world wide crisis's, and neatly tuck away all the scattered paper into the way-too-organized folder you carry to school each day. Then you'd turn, giving me a light hearted smile that never failed to give me the shivers, and agree with whatever plan of time consumption I offer.  
  
That is, I _used _to. That's past tense, now.  
  
I have spent hours of my precious free time merely staring at the slightly chipped and flaking white paint of my room, deliberating over what you and your inconspicuous signals could possibly mean. Iie, perhaps those ticking minutes aren't wasted, as long as they focus on you, Ken.   
  
Are you smiling from this? I'll bet my sacred goggles on it. I'm _putting_ _my pride _on the line to express to you what I'm feeling, and if the others of the group ever got wind that Motomiya Daisuke was so emotional .. well. I'll let you imagine the consequences, since I'm supposed to remain strong with all of them no matter what. I'm not supposed to have any faults.  
  
I have a weakness for _you_.  
  
I guess you're right about one thing though, which isn't too surprising for your grand genius. I may act a little clueless at times, possibly even foolish and nonsensical. But you, of all people, saw right through my bantam performance, and straight into the heart of the operation.   
  
Because buried under all my effortless forcing of confusion and stupidity, that's where my less obvious identity lies, imprisoned within a cage. An iron-wrought system electrified by my personal twopennyhalfpenny worth. There is irony somewhere, I just can't put my finger on it exactly.  
  
Maybe it's from how I was frightful Hikari would unearth the _real _me. I was suave with her, as I used to disillusion myself immensely, and I didn't want her to discover I was just a weakling under my awesome soccer skills and leadership abilities.   
  
As I steeled myself against her unsaid doubt, that's when _you_, Ken, waltzed your way into my life. While I was busy barricading the front lines with many a smile to any question, you opted for a more indirect approach. That's how it seems to me, at least.   
  
It didn't take much to do so, either, with your indeposable strategies. So with nary a thought on your part, you merely took the back door to reach inside me quite effectively.  
  
There's my payback, baka. _Now _let's see whose getting an aneurysm, shall we?  
  
But here's the thing I consider actual situational irony. At least, from what definition my literature text book gave me. While I always remained so passionate about shielding myself from the eyes of others, I expected anyone who _did _remove my costume to just ridicule me.   
  
Despite what I show the others with my "courage," I find it weird that I actually received the crest Taichi once owned. Truly, Ken, I think you deserve that rectangle of bisque most of all.  
  
Don't go off the edge with that one, dearie, I've got plenty more compliments creditable to you along with that last one. I always did, but especially now after learning how you struggle to survive with that undead, insane _Kaiser_ twenty-four backslash seven.   
  
If He wasn't a slice of you, I would have killed Him with my bare hands by now. Gomen. With that little phreak giggling endlessly in the corner of your subconscious, as you've explained, I can't feel much less than spite toward him.  
  
He doesn't deserve any of what He holds in you.  
  
You hold such a low opinion of yourself too, I've noticed. I feel like raving over what I read in your wordy offering to me, although it places a few transparent spots into the opaque mystery you present yourself in.  
  
With what information you offered, I was quick to snap it up and at least find the point. I can actually say I understand and empathize with you, rather than offer meaningless pity for anything and everything.  
  
At least, I hope I can.  
  
You never liked anyone's compassion toward what has been done. I think you want finality with the many issues plaguing you, since you'd rather cry alone in your room than in the arms of someone who cares. Any mercy you _always _saw as a weak link, even now with those ebon titles of the past stripped away.  
  
Ken, we _are_ friends to you, whether or not you believe a few of them are still distrustful to your good intent anymore. I guess Iori is you biggest concern, right? It's because the tyke makes his general dislike - _how uncanny, almost like Takeru does_ - for any evil, past or present, much too obvious.   
  
But, you more likely than not feel a _little _sting (which is an understatement) for the mere reminder. Do not deny it, Ichijouji, because I can see your flinches and winces better than you yourself can. You don't have a mirror to look into, despite .. your admiration toward my eyes; the supposed reflective quality I haven't experienced, yet.   
  
I blushed viciously throughout your lamentations of what He once said to me, you know. I actually didn't mind being delic -- erk! You share the ability to make my heart flutter irregularly with Him, the only difference being I hated the despot (I learned that word from your letter! wai~!) all during the process. Ken . .  
  
I'll have to talk with that Iori, and see if I can convince him otherwise of your "repentance" and purity. Just for you.  
  
I think as this story I'm retelling evolves, I've begun to realize that none of it is truly your fault. In any manner, no doubt. Maybe I'm just jealous of how you can make anyone fall into that coruscating gaze of yours, and get swept away by an amethyst tide.  
  
You don't even try, and here I am, up the river without any paddles! I've caught hold of a drifting tree branch, or poised moss ridden rock, but nothing has kept the current from taking me toward that final plunge. Down the churning waterfall. My final destination those splintered rocks at the bottom of said drop.  
  
Is that what** it** is? I'm almost feel as if between a rock and a hard place, with how uncertain I am about this whole endeavor. You left me defenseless, with your smooth voice and unaccountable knowledge - just came on by and picked up the pieces of that puzzle that was _me_, and took an ounce of your time to piece it together.  
  
When you figured that one small, irregularly shaped wedge was missing from the complete picture, you dug a little deeper into the cardboard box that makes up my mind, and found what you were looking for. I would feel almost violated, had you stolen the secrets I once locked away safely in there.  
  
But no, you treasured everything you came across, and stuck by that motto your mother is always one to murmur. "A place for everything, and everything in it's place." Bizarre, considering whatever else you know about me you'd never bring up in front of the gang, and release to the open. I'm thankful for that much.  
  
What is **it**, then? That odd emotion churning in the bowels of my stomach, as I habitually grow happier whenever you're mentioned in a conversation. I think I know you best, aside from your Dejital partner. I pride myself on that, especially.  
  
But anyway, there comes that flood of _something _as I talk about the genius Ichijouji's latest accomplishments, at the dinner table, and my parents and sister grin at the fact I have such a smart friend such as you. They think you'd help with my school work.  
  
I know you would, if I asked. I'd rather go play soccer, or take out my set of red hot 'blades and go ripping through the streets of Odaiba, or best of all; spend time with you, most importantly alone. As long as you're there, it really makes no difference.  
  
It's quite selfish of me you'll probably think, I know, but sometimes I feel like I _don't _want to share you with the others. Like you're my best friend, and I'm yours, and we nothing and no one else - besides Veemon and Wormmon, of course. We share something special, deep down, and now we have even more .. or so I consult over silently, at the moment.  
  
It makes perfect sense.  
  
I remember one time you were amazing me with your linguistic abilities - I still can't believe you know so much, but act so quiet and modest about it! If I had your skills, I'd definitely be gloating over it. You taught me a certain phrase, a proverb in fact, but I can't remember what exact language it was. Maybe it was Spanish, though I can't be too sure. It sure sounds funny enough.  
_  
No todo lo que brilla es oro.  
  
_Or something like that.  
_  
_Ain't that the truth, though? The most precious of metals comes from solid, ugly and tawny rock; hidden beneath the earth's surface - and even then, only in the slightest of amounts.  
  
_Maybe_ that's how you think you've found me, underneath the hard tan shell I project around myself, there lies a vein of cherished quince just waiting to be harvested by the respective miner. Instead of selling the nuggets for profit, you take up a private collection, and sit endlessly admiring the ambrosial items.  
  
Dude, I'm starting to talk like you. Now _that _is your fault.  
  
So you've dug up my heart, and that's what glitters onward like mistaken pyrite in the palm of your hand. Hold it carefully, please, I'm not sure what I'd do if you just decided to crush it into a fine powder, and let an indifferent breath carry it into raven skies.  
  
I'd probably shatter like a mirror struck by an untamed soccer ball.  
  
I _guess _I've found stability now, with you, at least tentatively. I'm all too grateful for that, and I can only imagine for how long you've been rapt with me and all I have to offer. I kind of enjoy this uncharted water, even if I don't have a map to guide me. I can stick to the stars, for now, and just head north with the train tracks.  
  
You're as bright as any aurora; what do I have to worry about? You can be at the help of my ship, and I'll always steer clear of trouble. You're like the voice of reason, without the punk repertoire package Iori comes in. Or the worrisome bundle Jyou arrives with. Or the dysfunctional explanations Koushirou tries to convince me of.  
  
You're just you. It takes no effort.  
  
And I love you for it.  
  
-owari  
  
- - - - - - - - - - - -  
  
Foreign Phrases  
* = german ; ** = spanish ; rest are japanese  
  
**onegai  
**please  
**tatoi  
** although, even if  
***der Kaiser  
**the emperor  
****no todo lo que brilla es oro  
**all that glitters is not gold  
**wai, desu, sou ne, etc.  
**just sound effects


End file.
